


perhaps love

by halcyonelixir (wonderstruckxxx)



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Light Angst, M/M, Modern Royalty, Park Woojin-centric, produce 101 minus woojin and jihoon, slow burn 2park
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-12 15:22:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15998012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderstruckxxx/pseuds/halcyonelixir
Summary: Woojin was days away from finally fulfilling his dream of performing onstage with his members, but things don't go as planned, and suddenly he's whisked away into a life he had never thought of living.





	1. Chapter 1

If there’s one thing in his life that he’s certain of, it’s that no matter what happens, no matter where he ends up going, his family, his parents and his little sister, would always come first. When he packed his bags, the weight of uncertainty and worry in his mother’s eyes ingrained in the back of his mind, heading towards his dream, moving from Busan to Seoul, he promised himself that not only would he fulfill his dream of performing on stage, he would also earn money to pay off the debts that their family had accumulated after his grandfather passed when he was seven years old. Debt that had come from the mound of hospital bills, and his father, being the only child, had to bear the entire brunt of it all. It was no secret that the salary from his father’s desk job was not enough to slowly pay-off the debt and fulfill their family’s daily needs on top of other things like utility bills and their school expenses. And it was no secret either that the loan sharks they had borrowed money from would visit their tiny apartment at least once a month, in the dead of night, demanding for the money his father hadn't even earned yet, those were the nights he could only hug his little sister tighter hoping she wouldn't wake up and hear the hushed but sharp voices that were hounding their parents.    
  
It wasn't always that way, and he still remembers the time when everything was different, quite clearly at that. The clearest memory of them all being the first time his mother walked him to the dance studio two blocks away from their house. At first, it had come as a suggestion from the mother of one of his classmates who mentioned dance as a good way to burn out a child’s excess energy and let him interact with other kids his age. And that had sparked his mother’s interest, hitting two birds with one stone, finding means for him to channel his energy and giving him more chances to gain friends. More likely the latter, with him clearly too impartial to meeting new people. It was supposedly just a trial, to see if he’d be fine with it, at the very least. But as soon as the class started, he fell in love. He was completely in awe, learning about the different ways a person’s body can move to various types of music. He was five years old then, and he had refused to leave until his mother promised to let him enroll him in more classes. He religiously went to the studio after school, learning the different types of dance, learning about his capabilities and strengths, and learning to express himself through his body. And that day, a gloomy Tuesday, his mother told him they can no longer pay for his dance classes was the day of his first heartbreak. 

  
If he were to be asked, he already knew even before he started his middle school years that going to college was not an option. Going to a university equated to having to spend a lot of money, even if he goes to one in the same city, even if he had a scholarship, there were other things he'd have to spend on. He knew he had to start earning money as soon as he can, and the him back then had believed that he was skilled enough to making a living out of performing, of dancing. Despite not being able to attend classes at the studio, he never stopped dancing. He practiced in several different spaces, from their apartment’s shabby rooftop to an abandoned corner in the subway station a block from their apartment complex, only getting a chance to practice at a studio again after he finally had the guts to audition for his middle school’s dance team. His plan of leaving Busan before he started high school was what had kept him going whenever he felt burned out from the two part-time jobs he had to juggle on top of his classes and dance practices with the team. The thought of possibly making his dreams a reality made it feel like all the hardships he was going through was worth something, and that thought was like a light at the end of dark tunnel. The money he earned from his part-time jobs, delivering newspapers in the morning and working at a convenience store at night, was split between his family and his savings. He knew that once he left for Seoul, he'd have to fend and provide for himself. And it's not even a matter of pride, but somewhere at the back of his mind, there's guilt. When he could already be earning money by getting a stable job, he instead chases a dream that places him in a position where the odds are clearly against him.   
  
He puts his heart into his dream, but at the core of his heart is home. Which is why two years and two agencies later, just a few months short of finishing high school, the recording of a survival show appearance inching closer, his dream so close but still so far, he finds himself on a train to Busan after a frantic call from his mother who had requested him to go home as soon as he possibly can without giving him any context of the matter. But the sense of urgency and panic in her voice had made him immediately run out of the dorm to the company building, looking for their manager to ask for permission. The train ride is almost three hours long, and it gives him time to think. He watches as the scenery gradually changes, signalling the shortening of his distance from home. In his rush to get home, he didn’t have the chance to actually dwell on the situation. He fiddles with the zipper of his jacket, willing himself to think properly, despite the complete lack of knowledge as to the root of it all. The panic in his chest is slowly blooming, and the several possible scenarios are playing in his head. He reaches for the silver chain around his neck, feeling around for the silver band hanging on it. He closes his eyes, taking slow deep breaths. 

 

~~~~~

 

Home to him is a one bedroom apartment in one of the lesser developed areas in Busan, has been since they moved from their old house which his father sold because it had been impractical living in such a huge space, which they could easily sell off. It was small, too small for a family of four, but they managed. They couldn’t afford something more. For the past two years he was gone, he knew that without him, his father had to work doubly hard to make ends meet and to keep the people they owe money from at bay. His friends at the company, even the staff and their CEO know about his situation. But he had refused any financial help offered to him, because he doesn’t want to be indebted to anyone when he has no assurance of being able to pay them back. So he endures, he saves every bit of the allowance the company gives them and sends the money back home, hoping that he could still be of help. Because no matter what happens, even if he fails in chasing his dreams, he wants to be there for his family, and he wanted a home he could come back to.

 

With heavy steps and an even heavier heart, he climbs up the stairs to the third floor of their building, walking towards the end of the hall. He didn’t know what to expect, but he didn’t expect to see all their belongings in the hallway.

 

“Mom?”

 

His mother faces him, a weak smile on her lips, dark circles under her eyes, and her hair all over the place, “Woojin-ah, welcome back.”

 

“Mom, what happened?”, he weakly replies, his voice cracking at the sight. 

 

He hears deep voices coming from their apartment, and his father’s voice stands out the most. The conversations don’t seem heated, which he’s glad for, but still, nothing explains why their suddenly emptying the apartment. 

 

It feels surreal, suddenly, realizing he’s home for the first time in months. The haste of getting back to Busan and the panic brought about being completely out of the loop had thrown him off. He meets his father’s eyes, and his feet move at their own accord. And without any pretense, he reaches out, burying his head on his father’s chest. He’s suddenly met by a surge of emotions, and the wave of relief brings him to tears. Because all of the scenarios that played in his head had ended badly, and he knows for a fact that if there was anything that happened to his family, he would completely lose it.

 

His father silently pats his head, an all-too-familiar gesture, something much more comforting than any other words his father could say. He thinks back to the last time he cried like this, and the last time he remembers was the time his grandfather passed away. He remembers that time quite vividly, considering how long it had been and how young he was then. He didn’t  He hasn’t shed tears like this ever since, but the overwhelming crash and mix of emotions got to him before he could even condition himself to think and ask first. 

 

“Woojin, son, it’s okay. We’re okay.” 

 

And he wills himself to believe that. So he listens while his parents tell him what happened, how around four men barged into their apartment the other night, how they made a mess of their living room, taking away some of their valuable things. It was a clear warning, an obvious threat. And their parents tell him how thankful they are that his sister is at their aunt’s house. They tell him that they’re only moving to another building owned by their landlord who has been nothing but helpful. He tells them about the idol producing show, and they smile widely for the first time, telling him to do his best and make the most out of it. After the move to the new apartment, a place similar to their old one, the sun already down for the day, for the first time since he was ten years old, he sleeps in between his parents. Wrapped around their arms, despite being in a place foreign to the three of them, he feels the warmth of home.

 

~~~~~

 

Normally, it takes around a hundred listens for him to get completely tired of hearing the same song over and over again. But according to his unofficial tally, he’s listened to Welcome to My Hollywood roughly around five hundred times the past month, and yet the usual annoyance is nowhere to be found. He laughs at the thought. Of course, how could he, when this song is their song. When it’s the first song they could officially call theirs, a song he helped write, a song he made the choreography to. It’s the song that would introduce them, him, to the world as performers, and he honestly thinks he could never get tired of hearing it. 

 

And the feeling is probably shared by all four of them, as he watches the members in various positions on the floor. They’ve been practicing the choreography for at least four hours now, and they’re on their first fifteen minute break. Despite the fatigue, he feels the excitement in the air. Joining Produce 101 was a bold decision on their company’s part, and all of them know that. He knows what’s at stake. He knows that in this competition, it’s not just his family name that he carries, not just his personal goals and dreams, he carries the name of the company. Their company’s name and reputation are at stake, and however they perform on the show, may potentially either taint or bring them glory. And to say he’s nervous is understatement. When he even merely thinks about how close they are to being on stage, he feels his heart beating out of his chest. Even if his chances of debuting with the final group is slim, he knows being there in itself is quite a huge opportunity to get their names out there. But on top of that, there’s a calm that comes from the fact that he isn’t doing it alone. That three of his closest friends are going to be there with him.

 

He smiles fondly as he hears Daehwi laughing at something one of the hyungs said. Daehwi’s patented laugh mixed with Donghyun and Youngmin’s chatter, it’s a combination that makes him feel oddly at peace. And here, in this small, mirrored practice room, he somehow feels at home.

 

“Yah, Woojin! Are you even listening?” 

 

He chuckles lightly, shaking himself off of another emotional train of thought, and says, “Not really…”

 

Daehwi rolls his eyes at him, to which he raises his eyebrows, the disrespect, he thinks. The younger shoots him a peace sign and adds, “The hyungs were just talking about the top article on news sites right now!”

 

“And that is?” he asks to no one in particular; it’s not unusual that they talk about things like this. It’s kind of a weird thing they do often even. Having small discussions on anything and everything at the top of search lists, from politics to show business, name it. Woojin likes how it helps them open up to each other, if that made sense. They share their opinions on various things, and it gives them chances to have disagreements and learn how to curb them. They learn how to accept and listen to each other’s thoughts about different things, and personally, it helps put the thoughts that swim in his head into words that he can actually verbalize. 

 

“Well, things are pretty bad. Rumors are spreading that the emperor is really sick, so the crown prince is being prepared for the throne,” Donghyun says thoughtfully, his eyes narrowing, seemingly deep in thought.

 

If he were to be asked about his opinion on the royal family, Woojin won’t be able to give a definite one. He knows Daehwi is completely fascinated by the royal family and is one of the many admirers of how they had maintained their regal and elegant stature throughout the years. Unlike before, it’s quite known now that the emperor doesn’t have completely monopoly of ruling over the country. Yes, the emperor still is the head of the country, but he now governs under written rules that he has to abide to when making decisions. Not only is the emperor looked up to, the entire royal family is highly respected. It’s weird to say, but he almost sees them as living symbols of how things used to be. And in a way, the emperor, empress, and their children have always been the family to look up to, seemingly devoid of any imperfections. They’re what families wish to be, but obviously, no amount of hard work can get anyone to that position, a position one is simply born, or well, married into. 

 

He’d be lying if he says he’s never felt a longing in his chest for what the royal family has. Especially when he was younger, when suddenly they had to sacrifice everything they had, when their life took a plunge, and everything in his life had to change. But he’s not one for wishful thinking, and he’s well aware of what’s possible and what’s not, what he can work for and what he can only wish for. But he remembers then, the last thing his grandfather told him, something he still doesn’t understand until now. Woojin remembers it quite vividly, because his grandfather, despite the fact that he had been slowly losing consciousness, had a slight, fond smile on his lips while telling him that he shouldn’t worry about his future, because somehow, someday, things will turn out better than he could ever imagine. And it’s something he doesn’t completely believe in, but it’s something he always holds close to his heart. Those words were accompanied by the silver ring that he’s always worn on a chain around his neck, his lucky charm.

 

He doesn’t say anything, but he casts Youngmin a look, urging him to give his take on the matter, “I mean, have you heard? There’s an article about the possible marriage that would take place before the prince could take the crown. And you bet, a whole lot of the population is heartbroken.”

 

All four of them laugh at that. He remembers reading past the said article, talking about the people who could possibly be marrying the crown prince, the only successor to the crown. The said prince is loved by almost everyone in the country, and the news that his marriage might be pushed forward is breaking the hearts of the people of every age. The prince, ever since he was young, basically had the people of their country wrapped around his finger with his warm smile and stunningly good looks, and Woojin isn’t one to argue about that.

 

“Oh? But isn’t the prince my age?”, he asks, remembering that bit of information as it seeps out of his memories, those of his elementary classmates picking random fights, claiming to be the one who’ll marry the crown prince. And he remembers those days specifically, because it wasn’t just the girls in his class who were picking petty fights, the boys were in it too. Something his younger self couldn’t exactly understand, but soon enough, it was clear. Especially when their generation didn’t grow out of their love and admiration for the crown prince. It was funny to watch to say the very least, when it seemed like he was the only one in his immediate circle immune to the crown prince’s charm.

 

“Yeah, that’s why people are going crazy. He isn’t supposed to be taking over now, not in around 5 years. And he can’t take the crown without getting married too. And the names being thrown around are intense,” Youngmin adds.

 

“Yeah, there’s Choi Yoojung, the daughter of the CEO of the biggest metal processing company in the entire region. Lee Chan, the son of Dr. Lee Byung, the owner of the largest hospital in the country. And a lot more, to be honest, around five more people.”

 

Woojin nods, the string posts on his Facebook timeline of crying emojis with photos of the crown prince attached to them finally making sense. When he thinks about it though, things like that are inevitable. It’s not a matter of choice. It’s a matter of responsibility. 

 

There’s a knock on the door that effectively ends their conversation. The door creaks open to reveal their manager holding out bags of takeout.

 

“Eat quickly, recording starts in an hour.”

 

~~~~~

 

Woojin wakes up feeling the familiar dull ache in his legs, the one he’d usually feel after a day of mostly practicing stunts and b-boy tricks. Nothing unusual. But the thing is, it’s their day-off. The last one they’ll have before the continuous, back-to-back shoots and promotional events for Produce 101 begin. And yet, instead of being able to stay in bed until late lunch, it’s 7 in the morning, and their manager is dragging him out of bed.

 

“Park Woojin, get up! Rhymer hyung wants you at the company building as soon as possible,” their manager says, leading him out of the bedroom he shared with Daehwi and pushing him towards the bathroom.

 

He isn’t exactly awake enough to process what’s happening, but he assumes it could be final feedback regarding the choreography of Welcome to my Hollywood. After all, Rhymer, their CEO, hadn’t been able to attend their last practice and had only seen the performance through video clips sent by the managers. So he relents, pushing their manager out the bathroom, promising to be ready in fifteen minutes.

 

Despite feeling utterly exhausted physically, he feels a certain rush flowing through his veins. He’s beyond excited. He’s nervous too, that’s for sure. But those feelings of doubt and anxiety are overshadowed by his want to be onstage. He’s so close, and despite the apprehensions, knowing he won’t just be judged by his talent, that his looks, attitude, and overall appeal to the public somehow matter even more, he’s happy. His dream is within reach now, and there’s nothing more he could ask for himself. 

 

He picks out a pair of dark ripped jeans and a black sweater that isn’t his from the shared closet between their rooms, dressing himself as fast as he could without falling over. If their CEO wants to meet him ASAP, and as early in the morning as this, that could mean that major adjustments are still to be made. He doesn’t even think of complaining, knowing fully that whatever criticisms he might receive, they’re only for the better.

 

He meets their manager outside the dorm building, and they walk silently to the company building. It’s not that cold anymore, but he’s still wearing his puffy jacket that’s a bit too big on him. He doesn’t want to pry, but he can’t help but notice the pensive look on their manager’s face.

 

“Hyung, is everything okay?” he asks, easily picking out the difference in the older man’s demeanor. This hyung, Jungho, has been their manager for the longest time. The four of them have two managers, and as far as Woojin remembers, Jungho has been the one who looked after them since they were regular trainees. And he remembers being really glad that the he was the manager assigned to them when they were unofficially formed as a group.

 

He’s one of Woojin’s favorite hyungs in Seoul, just because he just seems to understand how different Woojin is from the others in terms of maturity and disposition in life. And yet, when he found out about the situation Woojin’s family is in, he didn’t show any apparent pity for him, which is what Woojin needed. 

 

The man gives him a calculated smile, that still gave away the worry etched on his forehead, “It’s just… There are people in the company building looking for you, and I’m pretty sure they’re not from the broadcasting company.”

 

Woojin’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, his initial theory proven wrong. He briefly scans his mind for recent events that could lead or point to this, and he could only think of one thing. His blood runs cold.

 

Before he even realizes it, he bolts. The company building isn’t even that far, and he gets to the lobby in seconds, leaving their manager trailing behind him. When he gets there, there are two unfamiliar cars parked in the sidewalk across their building. He goes in without thinking twice, and the staff at the lobby simply point him to the direction of the conference room.

 

Scenarios play in his head, and he hopes that none of his fears are realized. Because when he thinks about it, the only people that could go looking for him are the people that have been harassing his family for years. They haven’t done anything drastic yet, the recent scare a few weeks ago in Busan was the most they’ve done. Regardless, these people are known to be dangerous, and if they decided to look for him in Seoul, he realizes that the people here around him are also going to be put in danger.

 

He feels around his neck for the silver chain and grips the slim band hanging from it. 

 

When he opens the door, he sees four men seated on the further end of the table. With his CEO are three men in neatly pressed black suits. He sees the deep frown set on Rhymer’s face, and his heart starts beating faster, his worries expanding exponentially.

 

One of the men, the one seated facing the door, sees him, finally acknowledging his presence in the room. What he expects are intimidating stares, cold glares, and a string of curses even, but he almost slips when the three men stand and bow at his direction.

 

“Um, excuse me?” he suddenly blurts out, the absurdity of the situation catching him off-guard. His prediction is wrong again, and he arrives there expecting answers, but instead he gets even more questions. Who are these men and what do they need from him?

 

Rhymer sits there quietly, his face softening, but a dim expression remains. Woojin doesn’t know what to do or what to say, but he takes a seat, his thoughts racing a mile a second.

 

“Woojin…”, the CEO begins, his voice shaky and unstable, which is completely unusual. The silence in between is unnerving, and Woojin feels like throwing up.

 

“These men are here to pick you up,” he adds, pausing, giving Woojin a clipped smile. The older man nods at the men at the table, seemingly to urge them to start talking. Still, nothing is making sense to Woojin right now.

 

“Good morning, Mr. Park. Before anything else, I see that your parents were right. The ring is indeed with you. Will it be okay if we were to look at it for a while?”

 

He instinctively reaches for the silver band hanging from his neck. It’s a ring with a single stone as thick as the ring itself set at the middle, with intricate patterns etched around its entirety. He unclasps the chain, letting the ring slip down the chain to his open palm. He grips it tightly one more time before handing it over wordlessly. He thinks about the ring, about his grandfather. Then he remembers, his grandfather’s last words to him.

 

Woojin watches as a small, intricately designed box is brought out of a black briefcase, one of the men picking up a ring upon opening it. He almost stops breathing when he sees that the ring matches the one he’s had for more than half his life. Even from across the table, it’s clear. The man holding both rings looks up to him, a huge smile on his lips. The ring that’s clearly his, the one that’s more tarnished than the other, is handed over to him.

 

“Thank you for your cooperation. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, young master.”

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Woojin’s insides are all twisted and the butterflies in his stomach are out of control. Truth be told, the only thing that’s keeping him from throwing up is the need to somehow keep his dignity in tack. To say he’s in shock is an understatement. He couldn’t speak, so he can’t ask. But here are so many questions running through his mind right now, and he can’t seem to just chase any of them. It’s as if his soul left his body, and he’s watching all of this unfold as an outsider. Because this can’t be real.

No other details were given to him, and he wasn’t in any position to ask any questions. He physically just can’t. Before they left, Rhymer gave him a bone-crushing hug, seemingly knowing more than he does. All he knows is that wherever is it they’re going, his parents are already waiting for him, and that’s the only reason why he willingly let himself be escorted to one of the cars parked outside the company building. He sits there, trying to form any coherent thought, but he continuously ends up failing. Woojin hates this feeling, the feeling of not knowing - that kick in his gut, the loss of coherency, and that unbearable anxiety fueled by his thoughts going by, shuffling too quickly. He hates this situation, being completely thrown off the loop, not having any clue on what’s happening and what’s about to happen. Especially when he’s settled into a rhythm, a familiar pace. He feels like he’s falling into an endless pit, or walking into a maze blindfolded. It’s always been easy for him to feel out situations thrown at him, not too quick to adapt and respond, but he had always managed. But this? This is simply too much.

His heart is still pounding really quickly, and if he doesn’t calm himself sooner, he knows he could trigger his asthma. So he takes deep breaths, his knuckles white from clutching the ring in his hand too tightly. He tries his hardest to put the pieces together. And there’s an image finally forming in his head, but it’s too unbelievable. Too cliche, and borderline crazy. And who the hell in their right mind would wake up prepared for some crazy shit like this.

But when he finally finds it in himself to look out the car window, lo and behold, the gates of the grand palace open right before him. He’s stunned into completely blankness, because as far as he’s concerned, he’s wide awake and not in some twisted dream. But he is awake, because he feels the pain in his hand from his nails digging at his palm, a little harder and he’ll be breaking skin.

He’s clearly awake, and he sees it all so vividly as the car passes through the gates, the splendor of the palace he’s only read about in class. He’s inside the grand palace. The only one in the entire country that’s still lived in, enclosed, and not for public viewing. The grandest of them all, the one that houses the royal family.

The car stops in front of a familiar structure. He thinks his eyes are deceiving him, but they’re in front of the main hall of the grand palace. He isn’t exactly fond of history classes, but he’s paid attention enough to know that not just anyone can step foot into this place. Until now, the practice still remains, that only the royal family and people directly related to them by work or close ties are allowed to be in there.

“You’ll be escorted by Mrs. Lee, the lady standing by the door. Your parents are already inside.” The man who opens the car door tells him, gesturing towards the lady in traditional clothing who's already smiling at him.

He manages a nod, as he shakily steps out of the car, trying to regain a sense of balance, physically at the very least. At this point, his thoughts have stilled, and he’s slowly gaining control of them again. He has an idea of what this might be for, but he doesn’t have an answer as to why he’s here. He walks at a calculated pace to greet the older lady who is to lead him around.

“Park Woojin, am I correct?” the lady asks, her voice warm and welcoming, the smile on her face kind of reassuring. She reminds him of one of his aunts, his mother’s eldest sister, the one who’d always bring them candies when she would visit from Seoul, the one who was there whenever their family needed help.

He nods, preparing to greet the older lady with a bow when a hand holds his shoulder to stop him, “Oh, please don’t. It would be impolite of me to let you do that.”

He lifts his head, tilting it in confusion. But the lady just slides open the wooden frame of the door, points to end of the hall, and urges him to start walking.

The encounter only reinforces the only idea he has, which still sounds completely insane in his head, so he just stops thinking about it and goes with the flow. Each step he takes is nerve wracking, but every step is a step closer to the answers he wants, so he quickens his pace. He’s standing right in front of the door, and true enough, he could hear his father’s voice.

He raps his knuckles on the door thrice, and it slides open to reveal a scene he never thought he’d live to see. There, seated and conversing courtly but comfortably, are his parents, the empress, and the dowager empress.

He stills when all of the people in the room all lay their eyes on him. They’re all smiling at him, but he feels the intensity of the empress’s gaze, seemingly scrutinizing every bit of him that’s exposed to the naked eye. He’s wearing more than decent clothes, but he feels very underdressed, especially in front of the empress and empress dowager, even beside his parents who are both wearing formal clothing.

“Woojin, please take a seat,” the empress, Park Jinhee, his brain thoughtlessly supplies, tells him.

He takes a seat beside his mother, who immediately takes his hand.

“Woojin, you’re here because of a promise your grandfather made to my husband, the former emperor. The rings were a promise, and only recently did we find out about it, because the ring had been lost among his older possessions. We were going to wait a few more years to contact you and your family, but as you know, my son is not in the best shape.”

The empress dowager looks at him, eye to eye. Her eyes are glassy, but she keeps her expressions neutral. Woojin holds his breath, and waits for her to continue, having a clearer idea of where this was going.

“The prince has to be ready, and being ready meant having been wed. When we first learned about your family, we initially thought it would be your sister. However, we found out the ring was given to you, which meant that your grandfather wanted this specifically for you. If you accept, Woojin, you are to marry my grandson, the crown prince.”

He chews on his lower lip, trying his hardest not to bite hard enough to break skin. It makes sense now, all the words said to him that he didn’t understand. This is his reality, but he can’t seem to grasp any of it.

“But we won’t be forcing you, it’s still your choice. But in turn, if you decide to accept this, we will take care of your family. We’ll make sure they live as comfortably as you do when you end up living in the palace.”

He feels his mother’s grip tighten, and he knows what silent look his mother is giving him means. Because all this time, they’ve only been allowing him to be the one to decide for his future. And he knows that they don’t want him to do anything he doesn’t want to. If he were to be completely honest, he still thinks this could be some twisted dream. It hasn’t sunk in. He knows he has to think of the repercussions of his decision before he gives an answer, and that he has to think about what this would mean for his future. But what’s there to think about when saying yes assures his family’s safety and welfare? He knows making decisions in haste is stupid and reckless. But he knows, even if he dwells on it for a longer time, his answer will stay the same.

“Yes, okay. I accept, your highness.”, he says, immediately silencing the room. His father looks so tense, and from the corner of his eye, he sees the older man’s frown deepen, then soften at his mother’s appeasing look and light touch.

The empress smiles, for the first time since he entered the room, seemingly pleased at his quick decision, “Then it’s settled, welcome to the family, Woojin.”

~~~~~

It hasn’t been even a day since he left the palace, his parents in tow. It’s only been a couple of hours since they had dinner at a restaurant near the company building, his parents, Rhymer, their managers, and his members all present. And now, as he packs all his belongings at the dorm, Woojin finally realizes the gravity of his decision. All that’s been in his mind is what the CEO told them then over dinner, that the men who came for him that day had explained everything to the company staff, what it meant for Woojin’s career. This aspect of it, at that specific moment he gave his answer, he completely disregarded. And he knows it’s because he puts his family above all, that he made that decision without considering himself. Which, he realizes now, is something he could end up regretting.

He’s packing his clothes from their shared closet when he realizes he doesn’t even know at this point what’s his. He looks at the line of clothes, the memorable ones striking a familiar feeling. The door creaks open, his members appearing with varying looks of sadness on their faces. His heart clenches, knowing that this could be the last time they see each other in a while. The thing was, the empress had requested him to pull out of the show. And on top of that, he was also to leave the company for the time being. Daehwi looks like he’s about to burst into tears, and Woojin can’t help but feel the same.

His vision becomes blurry, and the tears start falling from his eyes. He wants to laugh at how absurd the situation might look, with him the four of them in their storage room, in different stages of tears. He quickly wipes them away with his sleeves, but he can’t seem to stop. He feels arms wrap around him, which ends up making him cry harder.

He doesn’t cry often, and he’s pretty sure he’s cried more this month than his entire life. But he’s finally hit by reality, and he isn’t ready to face it. He thought it would be easy to go through it, to hand over his life to the royal family, but he now that he finally realizes what he stands to lose, he finally hurts. Because he chose the easy way out, he chose to assure his family’s safety, and in turn, he’s to let go of his dreams.

More tears are shed as the members help him pack his clothes. With Donghyun insisting that he should take whichever he likes most without thinking whether who actually bought it. When he finally closes his suitcase and brings it to the living room, he gives the members, the three people he has spent the last few years with, the brothers he never had, a tight hug.

Donghyun squeezes his hand, “Woojin, you know we’ll always be here for you, right?”

He nods, trying his hardest to stop the tears that keep falling from his eyes. They walk him to the lobby where car sent by the empress is waiting. He gives Daehwi a fond pat on the head, brushing the younger boy’s bangs away from his eyes.

“Daehwi, make sure you’ll be center, okay? Like you promised,” he says, giving their youngest a sincere smile.

Donghyun is patting his eyes dry, still holding Woojin’s hand with the other. Woojin says his goodbyes, but Youngmin refuses to say it back, the oldest of the four of them doing well in holding back his tears.

“Woojin, this isn’t goodbye. We’ll see you soon.”

He takes one last look at them, and he wishes the terms weren’t like this. But this is the sacrifice he chose to make, and he put on a resolve to never regret any of it. Even if he may never get to step on stage.

He lets go of Donghyun’s hand and gives his members a wave and a promise that he’ll try his best to see and support them on the show. He walks towards the black car parked across their dorm, everything he owns here in Seoul in tow.

~~~~~

The first thing he realizes that morning when he wakes up is that he doesn’t exactly have anything to do. In an alternate universe, he would’ve woken up really early to go to the shop with his members and get his hair and make-up done. And they’ll spend their entire day recording for the show. But this is his reality, and here he wakes up in a room at the grand palace, his new home.

It’s a Saturday. And the only thing in his life that’s certain is that he still has to go to school on Monday. The one thing the empress didn’t feel the need to change is him finishing high school at his current school, and he gets it because it’s his last year anyway.

From what they’ve talked about then, he won’t be revealed to the public unless they’re sure the emperor is beyond recovery. According to the empress, so far, the emperor been responding well to the treatments but is still unstable. Which is a relief to say the least, it’s been a crazy couple of days, and he still hasn’t had the chance to fully realize what he’s gotten himself into. Being trained early is just a precautionary measure is what they say. They tell him that if things hadn’t been this way, he would’ve been summoned in four or five years time. And he wonders what could’ve happened then.

He rolls around in bed and thinks about how quickly his life had changed. And he still, until now, wonders how all this happened to him. He looks around, and the room given to him is bigger than their apartment in Busan. He arrived late at night, so he hadn’t exactly been able to look around. But the room is prettier in the day, he thinks, with the natural lighting complementing the cream tones of the walls and the furniture. The bed he’s in is a queen size, and he has his own bathroom with a bathtub. And the gears in his mind can’t help but move and calculate the total amount in won of everything in the room. He stops when he realizes that the bedsheets are probably made of pure silk, and the painting on the wall across him is a classic masterpiece he’s read on a textbook once.

And his room is just one of the many rooms embellished with expensive, rare pieces. The room is a lot more modern than expected it to be, but the sleek lines and glass perfectly complimented the light wood and intricate patterns. The palace is so vast, but aside from the staff, he’s the only one in the main living area as of the moment. When he arrived at the palace, he was informed that the emperor was in the intensive care unit of the Samsung Medical Center and that the rest of the royal family, the empress, empress dowager, and the crown prince, had an important engagement to attend to in Japan, and that they won’t be back until Tuesday. One of the staff told him that his schedule will be handed over to him on Monday, with him having to do extra lessons in the palace after his classes. He was also told that he’s free for the weekend, but he has to remain on palace grounds, and he has to secure permission and be escorted by guards if he does want to go out.

There’s a knock on the door, and he immediately gets up to open it.

“Young master, would you like your breakfast now?”

He flinches, still not used to the the term. He pats his pocket for his phone, and his eyes widen when he sees it’s already 9 in the morning. He looks down at his clothes, which make him feel even more out of place, a sore thumb sticking out. And right on cue, his stomach grumbles. The last thing he ate was lunch at the dorm, which was 3 packs of ramyeon split between him and Daehwi.

The staff suppresses a smile. He bites his lip and nods, trying to curb his embarrassment. What a first impression, he thinks.

“Would you like to eat at the patio, or should we bring the food over?”

His mood immediately brightens at the mention of the patio. If he was going to stay in this place for the time being, he at least wanted to be familiar with it. He’d admit though, that at first one of his plans was to stay in his room as much as he could, to keep to himself and try to make keep his presence unknown. Because that’s how he usually responds to being thrown into new places, when he first came to Seoul after passing the JYP auditions, he didn’t exactly make friends with any of the other trainees. At the dorm, he stayed on his bunk bed, watching dance videos or listening to music. It was Daehwi who first approached him and latched onto him until they decided to explore more opportunities at Brand New Music. Bottomline is, this new resolve isn’t something he’s comfortable with yet, but he knows given his current situation, he doesn’t have much of a choice.

“The patio is okay, it’s the one near the main room, right?”

The lady nods and tells him that breakfast will be ready in five minutes.

When he got there, the only places that were pointed out to him specifically were the main room, the patio, his room, and the dining hall. He decides to go out minutes later, and he walks the halls intuitively. One thing that caught his eye when he first got there was the huge painting by the entrance of the main hall. It was a painting of the royal family, the emperor and the empress with their only son.

Their only son and the crown prince of South Korea, Park Jihoon.

And the painting, although realistic, doesn’t do the prince justice. Well, Woojin can’t really say for sure, because he hasn’t even seen the prince in real life. But he can already tell, somehow he just knows from being around the empress and realizing that the woman he sees on the news is far from the woman in front of him. And his brain easily supplies him with the many memories of the people around him gushing about how stunning the prince looks even from afar. He’s curious to say the least. Never being really interested in the prince as much as his peers were, but now, he’s to marry the guy. Tough luck, he thinks.

He thinks more and more of the implications of it all, and wonders how the people of this nation would take it. He’s sure the people are expecting it to be a girl, despite having names of certain boys thrown around here and there. He knows from what his friends said that the people were expecting someone affluent, someone rich, someone known, someone capable. And if he were to be honest, he’s none of those. He knows people will talk, and he’s aware of what his background will imply. And even though he’s scared, he knows whatever they would say is true, every bad comment he would eventually receive would only bear the truth. Because after all, even though he’s only fulfilling what his grandfather had hoped for him, he was also doing this to get his family out of the bad financial state they’re in.

This train of thought eventually soured his mood, and as he eats his breakfast, any sense of calm he’s somehow mustered eventually dissipates, and he’s left again to wonder about the mess he’s gotten himself into.

~~~~~

It’s Tuesday afternoon when the prolonged silence in the palace broke. Woojin had just finished his etiquette and history lessons for the day - the supplemental ones he was assigned to take. His teacher was an old lady who exudes an awfully familiar aura, and even though what she was teaching him was nowhere near familiar, the entire ordeal reminds him of the voice lessons he had to take early on when they were trying to figure out if he was cut out to be a vocalist. His teacher reminded him of his former voice coach, and the similarities were so uncanny he had to do a double take.

When he got out of the study hall, he was greeted by the palace staff walking past him in a rush. If he weren’t just taught about this the day before, he would be very much lost. But it’s one of the basic palace protocols he had read about during his lessons, and he was told it was one he should always remember. And from those lessons, he’s to follow the palace staff to the main hall.

His first few days in the palace were spent virtually alone. He decided to stay in the palace during the weekend, not wanting to bother a number of people just so he could go feel a semblance of his old life by going to the mall. He spent a lot of time in his room, watching old dance videos and working on some of the demo tracks he wasn’t able to finish before on the laptop the company had lent him when he and Daehwi started trying out music production, the laptop Rhymer had insisted he take with him. He only goes out for meals, which he had decidedly been eating in the kitchen with the staff who he has gotten to know somehow even though they insistently call him young master.

He still hasn’t found his peace, but he’s getting by. This day was one that would eventually come, and finally, he’ll meet the crown prince.

He’s done his fair share of research, and he couldn’t find a single article that spoke negatively of the crown prince. And that goes to say that he’s found some on the emperor and the empress which meant that the articles weren’t washed out. All he found were photos of the crown prince from news sites, all equally flattering. He reckoned the crown prince didn’t have a bad angle, to which he remembers Daewhi rants about how much he’d give to never have a bad photo taken that one time they were taking sample profile shots.

He quickened his pace to catch up to the line, because he’s the one who’s supposed to be in front with the head of all the palace staff. He hasn’t practiced enough, so he was told that although he was the one who’s supposed to lead the greeting, for now the head maid was going to do it as usual. He catches the end of the line, and all the staff members stop and let him him compose himself.

He pats down the button down he’s wearing, it’s a pale yellow, and it’s part of the first set of clothing the royal family’s stylist had picked for him. He’s not nervous, but the buzz in the room is quite new, and his anticipation only grows. The room quiet downs as the pitter patter of feet on hardwood floor gets louder. The double doors at the end of the hall opens, and everyone, including him, takes that as their cue.

Everyone in the room is bowing ninety degrees, and from his lessons, he knows that they are to do so until the empress and the prince reach the elevated area and give their greeting.  
“Good day, everyone. We hope everything here went well while we were gone, and we hope you treated the soon-to-be member of our family warmly.” the empress says, Woojin lifts his head, and he returns her pleasantries with a small bow.

The empress’s personal assistant takes over, and everyone is given a run down of the tasks they have to do for the day and the schedule of activities in the palace and for the royal family for the rest of the month, as per the empress’s orders. Here he zones out, finally having the chance to look at the crown prince properly. And as expected, the prince looks as how everyone would describe him. He’s pretty like how some of Woojin’s female classmates would always gush about, but he exudes a strong aura that somehow makes him mysterious to a point but still approachable. He has a light smile on his face as he stands there, and Woojin is hit with the realization that he’s going to marry this guy.

After a couple of minutes, the staff are dismissed, and Woojin is called over by the empress. He’s been thinking about how their first meeting would turn out, because despite having no hesitation in giving his firm answer to the empress, this situation is something he’s still not comfortable with. He already willed himself to think of this as a business contract, or like a contract as an idol in a company. The marriage would only bind him legally to the royal family, more specifically to the crown prince, but it wouldn’t mean anything. Or at least, it didn’t have to.

“Woojin, I’m glad Jungyeon picked clothes that fit you well.”, the empress compliments him, patting his shoulder as she does.

He smiles, “Thank you for everything, your highness.”

“It’s nothing. I know this is long overdue, but Woojin, this is Jihoon. I hope you two get along well.”

Their eyes meet for the first time, and Woojin isn’t dense not to see the discomfort in the prince’s eyes. He offers his hand for a shake, but the prince simply looks at his hand, then at him. The only thing he receives is a curt nod, before the prince quickly walks away.

The empress is quick to call her son back, but the prince moved quicker. And in a blink of an eye, he was out of the main hall.

She turns to give Woojin an apologetic smile, “I’m really sorry for that, Woojin. Aside from you, my son is the most shaken by the change in arrangements,” she starts.

“There were things we promised Jihoon, and he lived his entire life believing in those things. And this entire situation, with his father getting sick, is expediting the turnover, something our son isn’t ready for.” she explains, her voice calm, her eyes telling a different story.

He sort of understands, but he knows he’ll never be able to completely get it. The prince has lived a life so different from his, and he isn’t in a position to go in and act like he gets why the prince seems to be so repulsed by the idea of getting married to him. He doesn’t know him at all. He doesn’t even know what promises the empress is talking about. So for now, he makes no judgement, even if the rejection stings a bit, he’d live with it for the time being.

“It’s okay, your highness,” he starts, “maybe he just needs more time.”

The empress gives him a clipped smile, a slight lift on the tips of her lips, “Thank you, Woojin.”

He smiles back, his teeth showing a bit, and bows. He leaves the room with several questions about the prince and the situation they’re currently in. Mostly about how things would play out now that they’re both living in the palace. Now that he thinks about it, one of the staff had briefly mentioned that the prince’s room is the larger room across his. The thing is, since he isn’t exactly the greatest conversationalist, borderlining to be the most awkward one among his friends, he knows he won’t be able to approach the prince on his own. On top of that, the prince seems to not like him at all, so any attempt would be futile anyway.

He sighs. He had honestly hoped they could at least be friends. He came into this completely disregarding the idea of romance, because he doubts the crown prince would want anything like that with someone like him. He knows himself though, and to him it isn’t impossible, but he’d rather just disregard it. Companionship is one thing that could happen, but from what he saw, even that wouldn’t work out. So for the first time he’s been in the palace, he feels an ache in his chest. For the first time since he arrived at the palace, his heart aches, finally feeling a kind loneliness he didn’t expect to feel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has actually been sitting in my drafts for a while, but i'm not sure when i'll be able to finish the next one :c
> 
> hmu on twitter (@_halcyonelixir) if ever u want to! thank u for reading! <3

**Author's Note:**

> this is the 2park modern royalty au, lowkey goong/princess hours au no one asked for but i'm writing??? this is purely self indulgent, and this has been in my drafts for the longest time, and i recently just had the courage to actually post this somewhere
> 
> if you reached this far, thank you for reading, and the next part would be posted soon hopefully! c:


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